Fallen Angel
by Munchkincat
Summary: After Nemesis, the crew of the Enterprise battle with the devastating loss of their comrade. But one friend is still holding back... Chapter 3 is up! My story is now COMPLETE! :) All reviews are greatly appreciated! :)
1. Default Chapter

*Disclaimer: Star Trek the Next Generation is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.**

Summary: The crew of the Enterprise battle with the devastating loss of their comrade. But one friend is still holding back...

**Fallen Angel**

The crew watched in horror as the Schimtar exploded, bathing the Enterprise in a blinding white light. In an instant, everything was gone. The Schimtar… Schinzon… the Viceroy…

…. Data. 

All that was left was fiery debris floating aimlessly in the black space.

Captain Jean-Luc Picard waited, listening intently for a familiar sound. The sound of his friend and comrade of over fifteen years, beaming aboard. But the sound did not come.

Somewhere in the distance, the turbolift doors hissed open.

"Captain?"

But Picard paid no attention to the concerned voice of his first officer. He couldn't speak, couldn't move. In all his years as captain on the Enterprise , nothing could have prepared him for this. He continued to stare at the hole that used to house the viewsceen. The debris had finally subsided, revealing the black space speckled with stars. Nothing more. 

"It… It's Data," counselor Troi stammered.

Will Riker looked from his wife's tear-stained face to the stunned faces of the crew, immediately noticing the officer who was missing. He closed his eyes and fought the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Troi collapsed in his arms, sobbing. Riker struggled to fight back the tears, but it was a losing battle. Soon, tears streamed from his eyes and fell onto his wife's hair.

Dr. Crusher, who had witnessed death before could not maintain her composure. She did not need to be on the Scimitar to know that her friend and colleague had sacrificed himself to save the crew and everyone on the Enterprise . Her shoulders shook as sobs finally surfaced.

Valiantly, Geordi La Forge, Data's best friend, refused to give up hope. He used his new optical implants to the best of his ability and scanned the black space and Bridge. He tried to ignore the tears filling to the brims of his eyes. He searched harder, listened more intently. The harder the tears threatened to fall, the harder he looked. It was as if a part of him truly believed that the harder he looked, the better the changes his best friend would somehow miraculously survive.

bleep

The soft sound echoed in the silence of the Bridge, jolting the crewmembers from their thoughts. It took a moment for Captain Picard to react.

"On screen," he said, his voice barely above a whisper; he then looked at the hole he had been staring at for so long, "… open a channel."

The conversation that followed was a blur to Picard as he responded listlessly to reaction from the Romulans. As soon as the channel was cut, he retreated to his Ready Room.

Picard had no time to even breathe when his Ready Room doors closed, secluding him from his crew. The computer on his desk hummed as it unfolded automatically. Pushing his emotions down his throat, the captain sat in front of the screen that showed the Starfleet insignia with the words: Incoming Transmission below.

With a push of a button, Admiral Janeway appeared; her usual serious expression bore a wide grin.

"Congratulations, Captain Picard," she smiled, "I guess this defeat was just as easy as defeating the Borg."

The captain forced a painful smirk, but his eyes revealed his true feelings.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, "First Officer Data was the one who fired on the Thaleron weapon… He saved us all." Picard closed his eyes. It felt good to call Data that… his First Officer. It was a long overdue promotion.

"Then bring him here, I want to congratulate him myself."

Picard held his breath as he rested his forehead on his hand and looked away. He did not want the admiral to see how fragile his resolve was.

"He's not here," the captain's voice was barely above a whisper, "He sacrificed himself for me. Transporters were down after I beamed over. 

Admiral Janeway's smile quickly disappeared, "I… I'm sorry. After I spoke with Sub-commander Donnatra, I thought everything was fine."

"Everything _is_ fine," the captain replied, "thanks to Data."

~~~~~~~~~~

A Klingon officer on a Starfleet vessel, Worf often found himself at odds with cultures. What would be considered normal behavior on his world was often regarded with confusion and even disgust on a ship filled with humans. And today was no exception. 

When the Enterprise docked at Starbase 23 for repairs, Worf went to his quarters, reflecting upon the last few hours. He thought about his friend, who had died with the highest of honors. Though his Klingon culture told him he should be happy and celebrate his friend's legacy, a part of him panged. 

"I was born Klingon, I am a Klingon," thought Worf, "Klingon blood courses though my veins… but my behavior is still influenced by the people on this ship." And for the first time, he didn't regret the feeling. For the first time, he was at peace with the mixed emotions he felt, from both cultures.

Slowly, Worf filled his lungs with air, and let out a cry that reverberated throughout his quarters, though the closed door of his quarters, and down the hall. The Klingon death cry that resounded from Worf's throat was normally reserved for Klingons. It was a sacred ritual that only the most honorable were blessed with. And Worf could think of no other man who deserved it more than Data.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

*Disclaimer: Star Trek the Next Generation is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.**

Summary: The crew of the Enterprise battle with the devastating loss of their comrade. But one friend is still holding back...

**Fallen Angel**

Moments after the Enterprise reached the Starbase, Geordi found himself wandering the halls of Engineering. He paid no attention to the repair crews looking intently at data padds and assessing the damage. He looked at Engineering's main control unit, studying the shiny black surface and colored touch-buttons. How many times had he and Data stood working side-by-side on that thing? How many times had he and Data studied readouts, intent on finishing the current mission on time or even before the captain had ordered?

Hours ago, he would have answered, "several times." Now, he knew the real answer: "Not nearly enough."

Geordi closed his eyes and thought back to the last moment he saw his best friend. It was in front of a gaping hole of the crippled Enterprise . Data had asked him to lower the forcefield so that he could leap to the Scimitar. A moment before he lowered the forcefield, Data looked back at his best friend. And Geordi saw what many thought was impossible. Emotion. Data, the android who had always dreamed of becoming human, looked at his best friend with a sense of longing and sadness… without the aid of his emotion chip. In that moment, Data had confirmed what Geordi had always known; that deep in the android, Data had a soul filled with happiness, sadness, longing, fear, love… all the emotions he had been searching for so long.

Instinct urged Geordi to say something to his best friend before he leapt off into the starry space, where sound did not travel. But it was too late. By that time, his friend was hurtling straight towards the Scimitar, arms flailing to find purchase on the hull. 

Since the optical implants had replaced Geordi's VISOR, it seemed a blessing and curse at the same time. While he could finally see; shapes, colors, figures, people, the optical implants gave him headaches several times a week and threw him off balance. Geordi thought again back to the last moment he saw his best friend. At the remorseful yellow eyes and saddened expression that seemed to apologize to his best friend. Geordi sighed ruefully. He would have endured headaches every hour if he knew that he would see his best friend's face clearly for the last time. 

~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as the transmission between Captain Picard and Admiral Janeway was cut, Picard snapped the laptop shut. He swallowed hard several times, trying to ignore the new thoughts that arose in his mind. Then, like the sea crashing onto a shore of rocks on a stormy night, a wave of guilt slammed Picard, threatening to break his resolve. 

"Why the hell didn't I do anything?

"He was right there! I could have put the emergency transporter on _him_ instead! I could've stopped him! Grabbed-his-arm… taken-the-emergency-unit-from-him… anything! ...But I just stood there like a damned fool."

"I should've said something! I should've _ordered_ him to transport back!"

But deep inside, the captain knew that had he given such an order, it would have been one of the rare times Data did not listen to his commands.

"Why the _hell_ didn't I do anything?!"

Picard rose from his chair, releasing his tightened grip on the desk, and strode out of his Ready Room.

"Captain?" Riker inquired from the command chair as Picard stepped out onto the Bridge.

But again, the captain ignored his former first officer.

Riker simply watched as Picard strode quickly to the turbolift.

"Deck Two!" came the terse order.

As the turbolift descended, the captain listened to the soft hum its engines. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, taking several deep breaths. His thoughts sought refuge in the sound of the turbolift, the colors of its interior… the shape of the doors… anything to distract him from what was threatening to rise.

When the turbolift reached its destination, Picard walked slowly down the hall, taking several deep breaths before finally stopping in front of Data's quarters. The doors hissed open almost too quickly. Picard held his breath and stepped inside, knowing that if he hesitated too long, he might never be able to go inside.

Everything was as Data had left it. His desk, his data padds… Spot. Spot, Data's orange tabby cat, sat on Data's bed with her paws folded underneath her. The feline fixed her eyes on the man who had just entered the room. Picard made a sideways glance at the cat. He had almost forgotten about Data's pet. 

A deep growl emanated from Spot's throat, warning the captain not to come any closer.

Picard managed a slight smile.

"Well, I'm not too fond of you either," he replied, "but _someone's got to take care of you."_

He took a step toward the tabby and…

"MREEEOOOWWW!!!!"

Spot immediately hissed and darted under the bed; her tail enlarging to a fluff.

"… and obviously I'm not a likely candidate."

Slowly, Picard sat down on Data's bed, where he buried his face in his hands. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes…

Suddenly, the doors hissed open.

Geordi stepped in, but immediately halted when he saw the captain.

"Commander!" Picard snapped, "Don't you ever knock?"

"I… I'm sorry, captain," Geordi stammered, "I didn't think anyone would be in here."

The captain forced a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry, Geordi, it's just… you startled me."

Gerodi stepped inside. The chief engineer's optical implants were wet with tears and his cheeks revealed the stains of sorrow. He too, scanned the room, hesitating before taking another step.

Finally, the chief engineer crossed the room and sat at Data's desk, where the android had customized the computer to react more quickly to his lightning computations. He marveled at the alcove on the opposite wall, where Data had kept his most prized possessions. Or, as Data would have put it, "objects that, when observed, serves as a reminder of 'enjoyable' times spent with his friends." 

From the Sherlock Holmes hat to the various paintings, Geordi could pinpoint exactly when and where the android had used or made the items. There were some things that didn't need and android's memory to reference. …And the possessions in the alcove weren't just Data's most prized possessions.

Something stirred under the bed, jolting Geordi from his thoughts. It took him a moment to realize that he and Picard had been sitting in silence for some time. 

"Meow?"

A curious Spot emerged from under the bed. She looked at Captain Picard, then at Geordi. Scanning the room with her shining eyes, she looked expectantly from one empty space to another.

"Mrow?"

It was almost as if she knew.

"I'm sorry, Spot," Geordi replied, "… but your owner's not coming back."

His eyes stung as he said this and yet another lump formed in his throat.

"Who's going to take care of her?" Picard asked.

Geordi rose from Data's chair and stepped towards the tabby. Miraculously, Spot didn't shy away. Instead, she allowed the chief engineer to stoke her soft fur.

"I think she likes you," Picard said, slightly amused.

"But I hate cats," Gerodi protested, almost as if he were trying to convince himself. He had stopped petting Spot, but Spot tentatively stepped toward the chief engineer.

"U…gh…..," Geordi groaned, looking at the cat out of the corner of his eyes.

"Oh alright," Geordi finally said, wincing at the shining, pleading eyes the tabby gave him, "but only as a favor to Data."

Another moment of silence descended in Data's quarters as Geordi stroked Spot and Picard remained where he was, staring straight ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Where… is… my brother?" B4 asked Riker, his innocent face cocking to the side.

Riker sighed. He had retreated to a small table in Ten Forward where he had hoped to be left alone.

"He's not here," he replied, avoiding B4's eyes.

"Where is he?"

Reluctantly, Riker finally faced the naïve android. Why the hell did he have to look _exactly_ like his brother? Every time Riker saw B4, the former first officer's resolve threatened to crumble.

"I'm sorry B4, but… he's in a better place."

"Where is… 'a better place'?"

Riker buried his face in his hands. He should have known better. He took a deep breath before facing B4.

"It's a sacred place where good people go after they have… died. Your brother stopped functioning today."

B4 paused, processing the new information.

"Then my brother will not return."

This time Riker looked away to hide the tears that suddenly fell from his eyes.

"No, he won't be returning."

The silence that followed was so long, Riker turned back to see if B4 had left. 

He had not. Data's brother was still there; the curious face was now replaced with a subdued look.

"Data sacrificed himself," Riker continued, breaking the silence, "If it weren't for him, we'd all be dead."

B4 nodded. The captain had explained to him what had happened to his brother, but his primitive positronic brain took repeated explanations for him to fully understand.

"You explain… that my brother is 'in a better place,'" B4 said slowly, "where good people go after they have… stopped functioning.

"… But my brother is not a person. He is not human."

"No, he's not," Riker replied, "… But his heart and soul were more human than any of us will ever hope to be."

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

*Disclaimer: Star Trek the Next Generation is property of Paramount Pictures and all respective cast, crew, and employees. I am not making a profit off this. This is simply for fanfiction enjoyment.**

Summary: The crew of the Enterprise battle with the devastating loss of their comrade. But one friend is still holding back...

**Fallen Angel**

Geordi finally moved, breaking the silence with the sound of his footsteps. He moved back to Data's desk and opened the top left-hand drawer.

Slowly, he pulled out its contents: Picard's literature book, a clear jewel bearing a holographic image of Tasha Yar, poker chips, and finally… Starfleet's most prestigious awards, kept in a glass case. Data had earned more awards than any other officer on the Enterprise . Yet he still admired those around him, even those in lower rankings… because they were human.

Gerodi ran his hands around the glass case and felt the rice-paper thin pages of the literature book.

"I can't believe he's gone," he whispered, barely able to form the words.

Carefully, he placed the cherished items back into the drawer and looked out at window into the vast blackness of space, sparking with stars. Just when the tears threatened to overtake the chief engineer, Geordi quickly excused himself, grabbed Spot, who growled warningly, and strode out of Data's quarters.

All the while, Picard's gaze into the wall never faltered. Several minutes after Geordi left, he finally allowed himself to look at the rest of Data's quarters. Data's quarters were not only filled with attempts at being human, but with his personality as well. 

In all ironies, the android who was "incapable of emotion" taught Captain Jean-Luc Picard about humanity. Since the discovery of Schinzon, Picard had tortured himself with the question of whether he would turn to be as evil as his clone had he experienced the same childhood as Schinzon had. Was he staring at, not a mirror of himself, but a _reflection_? Could he become so sinister that he would destroy all of humanity? Was he exactly like Schinzon inside; just like Data was like B4? Was Schinzon simply a reflection himself in another life? Minute by minute, hour by hour, he had grappled with these questions. And Data had eased all of his fears with just one statement.

"I _aspire_, sir; the B4 does not. Nor does Schinzon." 

Before all this, Picard had been bracing himself for change. He had been prepared to say good-bye to his former First Officer so that he may take command of his own ship. He had been prepared to say farewell to Dr. Beverly Crusher, who was changing careers to Starfleet Medical. But in all the loss, he took comfort that he would start a new life with Data as First Officer. There was no other man he wanted by his side.

Now he had lost Data; someone whose life to took most for granted. Though he always knew there was a possibility that Data would be forever damaged, he still had no doubt in his mind that his new First Officer would always be with him. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, he again thought back to his last moments with Data. The yellow eyes and almost sorrowful expression would forever be imprinted in his mind. He then imagined what it must have looked like just before Data fired upon the Thaleron weapon. Just before his friend and comrade was incinerated. 

It was because of Data he could even _have_ these thoughts. It was because of Data that Worf, Deanna, Will, Beverly, Geordi, and he were living. It was because of Data, thousands… billions were living. Had Data not stopped the Scimitar, it would have undoubtedly gone after Earth. He wished he could have at least embraced the android; to thank him. But he knew that would be far from sufficient. He wished, above all else, that he could express these emotions to a certain android. Data would have been fascinated with the flood of emotions. He wished that Data was by his side. 

Suddenly, the captain's resolve finally crumbled. The stoic, strong, tough-as-nails captain collapsed into a fit of tears. The cold tears burned wavy paths down his cheeks and his shoulders shook with each sob. Captain Picard tried desperately to regain his composure, but it was a losing battle. The tears consumed the captain and soon, Picard made no attempt wipe them away. 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

So what do you think of my story? 

Thank you so very much to all who have reviewed my story. I _greatly_ appreciate the feedback you have given me. It is reviewers who make writing stories so rewarding!

Thanks again! :)

Munchkincat out.


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